


Ace in the House

by Rookmoon



Series: One-Shot Wonderland, Hetalia Edition! [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Aromantic Reader, Asexual Character, Breakfast, Food, France is your brother, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Sudden wake up call, blanket theif, fem!reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-10
Updated: 2016-12-10
Packaged: 2018-09-07 15:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8805394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rookmoon/pseuds/Rookmoon
Summary: Big Brother France decided that he's had it with his sister's lack of romance.It doesn't work out in his favor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I thought this would be fun to write.  
> I'm also tired, and it's getting late.

You woke up the same as every other day. To searing sunlight bursting through your window courtesy of your brother, whose charms were known to bring the most stubborn woman to her knees. Francois.

Your dearest brother yanked your covers away from you, making you curl into a ball, and glare at him from the safety of whatever warm spot you could find.

“It is time for breakfast, sister.” He smiled, and took the blankets into the other room. With him. You hissed as he left, and he laughed. God, you hated that laugh. It made him sound like he was up to something. Your brother loved to meddle. That’s why you didn’t keep a diary, nor did you confide in him too often.

Groaning, you rolled out of bed, landing face first on the floor. You rubbed your forehead, getting up. You dressed yourself in some comfortable clothing and wandered down stairs. The smell of food leading you to the kitchen.

Francois was standing in front of the stove, something he refused to let you help with. He once told you it was because he didn’t want you to leave. Another time it was because when you get a partner, they will need to cook for you. You would try not to roll your eyes, and he would change the topic.

Francois flinched as you dragged the wooden chair away from the table. The sound of wood scraping on tile irritated him, but you didn’t feel like lifting the chair.

“You sure you don’t want help, Francy Pants?”

“No, not if you’re going to use that name that your friend forced on me,” he huffed, and you got up to set the table. 

“Al isn’t that bad,” you muttered, “He’s just silly.”

“You don’t need that kind of silly, (Y/N).”

Soon enough, the food finished, and your older brother slid a croissant and some eggs onto your plate, as well as his own, and set out jam and butter in the middle of the table.

He chattered about a dream where he and his two best friends were looking for a sacred ruby, or something like that, and he had fallen into a rabbit hole, and found you at the bottom, dressed in a hideous waistcoat with a fluffy tail pinned to the back of your dress pants.

You made a few comments on the strange dream, and continued your meal. Francois sat across from you looking thoughtful for a minute before he cut another piece of an egg, and dragged it through the yolk, left runny for this exact reason.

“How is your life, dear (Y/N)?” He asked.

“Nothing big is going on,” You replied after swallowing a bite, “I’ve been thinking of going to see one of my friends today.”

Francois smiled, “Say hello for me,” He blinked slowly and leaned forward. You knew what he wanted from you. “So sister, I want to know the latest gossip on your love life. There must be something going on.” He paused, waiting for you to answer.

Your eyes widened. He took that as a sign of hidden information. 

“There must be someone who has caught your eye by now?” His small smile stretched into a grin.

“You just need to find love, dear (Y/N). No matter what!” Francois smiled and took a large bite of his food. “You know, a great musician once told me, sister,” He started humming, trying to find the right words. “You know that gay, straight or bi-”

“I’m ace.” Your interruption made the Frenchman stop singing before he could really get into it. You sat still, cursing your little slip, but you really didn’t feel like hearing Francois sing. He made sure to do it often, so you avoided it when you could...Thus causing you to spill the one important thing you had kept from your brother.

“Pardon?” He blinked a few times. He was hoping he heard you wrong.

“There is literally nothing going on with my love life. You keep asking me, but I am asexual. There is nothing going on.” You huffed, your mini rant finished, “Is that clear enough for you?”

Francois’ face paled as he turned away from his food. “Ace.” He pulled a handkerchief out of his sleeve, and fiddled with it. “That means…” he started sobbing, “I’ll never be an uncle.” He bit the cloth and started shaking his head. Melodrama was a specialty for him.

You sigh and leave the table, knowing that he would probably stay like that for a while. You shut your bedroom door, and fall onto your bed.

“Why me?” You groan, and search for your blankets. They were still in the other room.

Francois opens your door, and throws your blankets at you, covering you with fluffy warm things.

“You know, (Y/N), I love you, no matter what.” The door creaked, meaning he was leaning on it again, “I’m glad you told me. I would have gone on for ages.” He laughed, and sat next to the blanket pile on your bed.

“You know, Père would be proud.”

\--------------------The End-------------------

  
Père means Father in french.


End file.
